


an ache in you (put there by the ache in me)

by jessicawhitly



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Season/Series 01, and the family unit we actually deserved, it's about the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: The October air has more of a bite to it than Jessica had anticipated as she stands, watching Ainsley kick the soccer ball up and down the park field.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	an ache in you (put there by the ache in me)

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompts "You look cold. Take my coat." + "You don't have to take care of me". Title is from tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.

The October air has more of a bite to it than Jessica had anticipated as she stands, watching Ainsley kick the soccer ball up and down the park field.

She wraps her sweater tighter around herself, the breeze ruffling her hair against her cheek as she shifts her stance, heels sinking further into the grass. She hadn’t particularly wanted Ainsley to join a public league, especially so soon after the events of Martin’s arrest, but the child psychologist had said it would be a good way to keep her active and around other children. So here she was on a Saturday, shivering on the sidelines of her daughter’s soccer game.

“You look cold,” Jessica fights against the surge of emotions that wells inside her at the voice that appears behind her, straightening her spine slightly. A moment later, warm wool wraps around her shoulders, and she can’t help the soft, blissful sigh that leaves her lips. “Take my coat, Jess.”

“Now you’ll be cold,” she tells Gil as he moves to stand beside her, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks in a stripped flannel shirt and jeans.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells her, and nods out towards the field. “How’s she doing?”

“She scored the first goal,” Jessica tells him proudly, and Gil breaks out into a grin. “How was Malcolm this morning?”

“Still not talking much, but he ate a little at the diner, so some baby steps,” Gil answers, and Jessica feels relief sweep through her, her shoulders loosening against an unseen tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. “He’s over reading on the bench.”

Jessica turned, softening at the sight of her son nose-deep in a book, scarf up to his ears and toes dangling a few inches off the ground. Her eyes linger on Gil’s profile as she turns back to the game, something in her throat catching before her gaze finds Ainsley once more.

“You don’t have to take care of me, you know,” she finally says softly, even as she clutches the coat tighter around herself.

“It’s not about having to, Jess,” Gil says after a long moment, and she swallows around the lump in her throat. “It’s about wanting to.”

“Gil…” Jessica starts, an ache in between her ribs. She wants to say more- needs to say more. She can still remember the feeling of his lips on hers, and the look on his face when she’d pushed him away, lies pouring out of her mouth like acid as she tried to save him from the Venus fly trap that was her life. But at that moment, Ainsley bounds over to them, panting for air and hair flying around her face.

“Mama did you see? Did you see my goal?” Ainsley tugs at her hand, and Jessica allows her attention to be pulled to her daughter, praising her for her goal and smoothing her hair out of her eyes. “Did you see it, Detective?”

“I didn’t- you’ll have to make another one just for me, kiddo,” Gil tells her, and Ainsley beams, nodding. Jessica gets her to drink some water before she sprints back towards the field, fondness welling inside her.

“You’ll stay- for the game, right? It’ll mean a lot to Ainsley,” Jessica says, turning to Gil and searching his face. His nod is slow, but his lips quirk into a half-smile after a moment.

“Yeah. Of course I’ll stay. For Ainsley,” he says, and Jessica’s glad for the chill in the air, to hide the sudden rush of blood in her cheeks.

“She’ll appreciate it,” she replies, and pretends she doesn’t hear his chuckle. Just lets the warmth of his coat settle of her, and pretends it’s enough.


End file.
